When
by FieryBrunette
Summary: When it comes to loving Lily Evans, all James Potter needs is a 'when'. A thoughtful four-shot reflecting the seasons with a changing relationship and the two people in it. Please read and review!
1. Sunlight

**A/N: And here we have my latest little brain child. I'm not aiming for the extremely plotsy with this one, more like angsty/poignant/thoughtful. I haven't done a lot of angst in a while, so let me know what you think, please. Reviews are highly appreciated.  
Takes place during seventh year, rated T just to be safe. ;)  
Please READ AND REVIEW!**

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It looked like today would be the last day of summer.

There was no other explanation, because a day as beautiful as this could only be followed by the approach of another season. Today, the perfect day, was the end of an era; one of spending all day outside, one of watching the sun sink behind the hills, filling the sky with hues of violet and scarlet, one of being completely unrestricted in anything one does or says, and one of such pulchritude that the end of it often left one filled with an incredible yearning and nostalgia.

It was the end of September; a Saturday afternoon, to be exact. The entirety of the Hogwarts' population seemed to want to be outdoors that day. Students lay sprawled out on the grass, basking in the bright, warm light, chasing each other about while shrieking with laughter, dipping their feet precariously in the Black Lake. Tranquility floated about the entire school like a hazy fog, including everyone in it with a accepting happiness.

On days like this it was usual for him to be flying about the Quidditch Pitch, or lounging about with his friends while whipping up their newest prank. It was usual to be tackling down that essay he'd so conveniently forgotten about until today. Yet James Potter found himself alone, leaning against the large beech tree by the foot of the lake, taking in the scene around him with a stoic look about his eyes. On his lap sat a small book, opened to a few stanzas of poetry, pages worn away from years of being turned. James had started reading poetry since he was little, when his mother would read the famous lines of Faulkner and Dickinson so he would fall asleep at night. He liked the easy flow of it; how the words wound around his tongue like a comforting tourniquet, the fact that even if the poem didn't make sense, it was still beautiful to hear.

Sunlight danced effortlessly about the water of the lake, forming a luminescent illusion that looked vaguely like stairs on the liquid surface. A soft breeze flitted about the air, caressing the faces of the students sprinkled about the lawn as it wove along. The weather was oddly calm today--probably about to announce the approach of autumn--but enjoyable all the same.

James stared at the surface of the lake for a little longer, unconsciously running a hand through his hair in thought. It wasn't often that he got moments like this, moments in which the barriers in his head simply fell away, allowing him to accept and mull over any trifling emotion he'd been denying for too long. Sitting there, one knee propped up with his arm hanging off it and the other stretched out, he was able to accept something that had been gnawing at his conscience for weeks:

She hadn't spoken to him in over three months, let alone acknowledged that he existed.

Normally, this fact wouldn't have bothered him. She often went through periods of ignoring him, because she couldn't stand the sight of him, but it was never this extreme. It had all gone and gotten worse after that one fight. One fight; tumultuous and catastrophic and permanently ending any grudging acquaintance they might have earned. James blinked, shaking the memories from his mind that were too hurtful to ponder over.

They didn't speak, see, or even take note of each other after that fight.

The return to Hogwarts after break had been quiet and tentative. James returned to his daily routine of goofing off and hanging with the guys, and she returned to her studious patterns and habits. They had continued to exist in these separate circles for the last month, taking extreme measures to not make any contact whatsoever. James would have already talked to her, already asked her out a dozen times over, but after what had happened between the two of them last year, after the fight....he found he had nothing to say to her. Too proud to apologize, too polite to accuse, he decided to remain passively silent when it came to her.

Lolling about in the sun, the balmy air surrounding him and filling his senses with an alarming amount of peace, James finally came to the terms with the fact that him and Lily Evans would probably never speak to or see each other again. They'd continue to exist in their separate lives, like two bubbles that would not touch for fear they should burst.

He loved her; that much was evidently true. There was no denying how he felt about her, even after all they'd been through. It sounded foolish to admit, him being not yet seventeen. It made no sense that he would want the one thing that was nigh impossible to reach. But most things, he'd come to find, never made sense when it came to Lily. She was the most inexplicable person he had ever met; a single paradox of a fiery attitude and a gentle heart, a smirk, snicker, and smile, a burning cold shoulder and a chilling inner warmth.

Like summer itself; beautiful, but never around long enough for him to enjoy.

The weather today seemed to radiate incandescence, lighting the atmosphere up with shades of gold and skies blue as a robin's egg. Summer was James' favorite season, and being there, appreciating the last rays of pure heat; careless and convenient, seemed to satisfy him for the time being. In that moment, watching that dazzling sun sink lower as the seconds ticked by, it was hard to keep from closing his eyes with a smile on his face, and just let the blaze of summer wash over him.

Suddenly, a loud burst of laughter sounded from some twenty feet in front of him. James' eyes snapped open, narrowing slightly as they adjusted on the source of the sound. In a matter of seconds his vulnerable, happy expression hardened impassively.

Lily Evans walked along at the foot of the lake, her socks and shoes abandoned on the shoreline. Marlene McKinnon and Alice Prewitt walked with her, dipping their feet in the cool water and screaming when the shock of the cold hit them.

James tried not to look at them, tried to once again lose himself in the cheery afternoon breeze. But there was no hope for him now, his curiosity was pricked and agitated like a bee had stung him. He had to watch her, if only for a fleeting moment. Guiltily, he allowed his hazel eyes to fix on her, taking in a sight that he hadn't seen in three months.

Her hair had always looked very pretty in the sun.

It hung in tresses down her back, pulled over to one side in a low pony tail. In the aureate rays of light, it almost looked like liquid fire pooling over her shoulders. James remembered how often he used to compliment her hair, even on days when it was more frizzier than most girls'. Her cheeks were still pale and freckly as he'd always known them to be. Of course, she was different as well. She had changed over the summer.

He had as well, of course. James had changed in many ways himself. His easy going arrogance was now humble, quiet, and patient. He wasn't as rowdy and immature as he once was. It you didn't know James, you wouldn't have noticed the change. But Lily, Lily had most certainly changed. It was something in the way she stood and carried herself, like she had finally crossed that awkward bridge from adolescence into adult hood. She was a little taller, a little more slender. And she looked tired, he noticed with a slight pang. Like she'd spent too many nights up for reasons no one knew of. She had a hidden secret playing about the corners of her eyes, unspoken and weary, probably inducing the tired countenance.

He realized then that she was looking back at him.

There was too large a distance between the two of them to see if her eyes were still the same shade of emerald they'd always been, but even so, he saw no reason to look away. A single glance was truly all he needed from her at that moment, and far more than he could ever expect.

There were a million different things to wonder in that moment; why she hadn't glared at him, why he was putting himself in such a vulnerable position right now, why, despite what had passed between them, he was still undeniably attracted to her. But he had no time to ask himself any of these, because almost instantly after she looked at him, she looked away once more, walking away without turning back.

It wasn't a conversation and it wasn't a contact. It could be barely be called anything but a simple, innocent glance. Soft, tentative, shy, yet it managed to easily fuel his hopes with fresh adrenaline. He felt awake, alive, any stoic expression expertly removed by that single pair of green eyes.

Because unlike today; the end of summer, of an era, that look seemed to mark the beginning of a new one. Maybe she wasn't crazy about him as he was about her, but that single glance had confirmed that she didn't hate him. It was enough assurance for now, even though it wasn't much to start with.

But it was a start. That's all he could ask for.

As the last day of summer faded to dusk, taking with it all the memories of forgotten and remembered pasts, James decided to watch the sun go down. Rather than chase after that look she gave him, beg for another from her, he would wait. He'd let Lily be the one to call the shots this time. It was all about letting her be the one to approach him this time, all about waiting just a little longer. He didn't mind much that she would probably take ages to come around; he could wait for eons.

Because when it came to loving her, being with her, wanting her, James Potter didn't need a 'how', 'why', or 'where'.

All he needed was a 'when'.


	2. Wind

When autumn came, it hit hard. With a whirlwind it knocked the leaves off the trees, covering the ground with piles and heaps of crimson, bittersweet orange and fluorescent gold. The air was laced with the tang of cinnamon, crisp sunshine, freshly picked apples, and change. Autumn was the season of metamorphosis, of fitting into a new skin. It was bold, brash and impossible to control or predict.

The wind was especially the most unpredictable of all. It thrashed against everyone with surprising force, whipping about like a vicious, blustery viper. It could easily ruin or aid any Quidditch game on a whim.

It annoyed James immensely.

He walked along the open windowed corridor, his friends lolly-gagging behind him and the playful puff of breeze making his onyx tinted hair appear even more disheveled than usual. The group headed towards the Quidditch pitch, and for once James seemed absolutely determined to have a solid practice without being tossed about by the blasted wind.

It was bitterly cool that day, and even the meager rays of sun couldn't seem to reach all the way to the ground and the students on it, wrapped tightly in their sweaters and scarves as they huddled away from the cruel, redundant gales. Uncommonly cold for the mere start of November, the equinox appeared to have gone full-throttle, ignoring the general seasonal rules and already covering the grass with a thin but firm layer of frost every morning before sunrise. The world looked like a blend of vivid color, flushed cheeks, and cotton-candy blue skies with just a dash of white clouds.

James hadn't seen much of Lily since that day by the lake, though he had thought of her considerably more often. When he sat down for a moment of rest, or closed his eyes for a mere second, she was there; a permanent and evermore intriguing ghost, giving him that same impossible and all-too-real stare. Occasionally, she'd walk by him in the hallway, in deep conversation with her friends, or consulting a teacher about her latest test scores, never sparing him just one more glance. In the autumn rush, James found he was restless to go up to her and talk, or maybe just get her to look at him again.

He was aware that after what happened, she had every right to not talk to him, just as he had every right to not talk to her. They were friends before the fight. And now they were cautious enemies, treading lightly on water while trying not to make ripples that could come within touching distance of each other. It was a precarious process now, and he had to admit that it was going slower than he even imagined possible. But he knew he was making progress by the way she made sure not to spit every time he walked by, by the way that sometimes, when he was not looking at her, he knew she was very subtly looking at him.

Change was in the air, and James could feel it sparking at his fingertips in anticipation, putting every nerve in his body on edge as he waited for Lily to approach him.

As the four friends walked onto the pitch, James glanced up at the sky, the clouds billowing about with it like white sheets on a clothes line. Slowly, he breathed in that special autumn air, the wind chilling his blood with a pleasant shiver.

"C'mon Prongs," Sirius drawled, "You can stare at the clouds and question the meaning of life some other time."

James grinned and turned his friends, preparing some snappy reply when something caught his eye behind them; a patch of red hair.

Lily Evans was seated among the Quidditch stands, writing thoughtfully on in a notebook, completely lost in her own world. Her brow was furrowed and she occasionally bit her lip while scratching out a sentence. Her hair was expertly tied back in a bun to avoid being mussed by the wind and her eyes were intent on her work. He thought it odd that she would go to the Quidditch pitch of all places to work on a homework assignment, but didn't complain. Seeing her, even when she didn't see him back, set his nerves astir even more.

"Prongs..." Sirius groaned impatiently, clearly eager to get up in the air.

Ignoring the sense that he should just keep watching her, James began to walk towards the locker rooms to change into his Quidditch robes. An accelerated gust of wind suddenly lashed about the stands, throwing leaves around and disorienting all the students sitting among them. It was stinging and sharp, and James felt his eyes vaguely water.

As soon as the wind had reached it's peak it began to decline. James raised his eyes to the sky again, only to find a thin, Gryffindor scarf landing at his feet. He gingerly picked it up, finding it to be well-worn but still soft to the touch.

"James!"

A voice addressed him that was hardly familiar; it had been so long since he'd heard it, but just as sweet. Light, melodious, feminine, it was the kind of voice that weaved about like the playful wind itself. He glanced up from the scarf to find her running straight towards him, looking only slightly out of breath. The wind seemed to have just barely affected her appearance, forcing a few scarlet locks to hang free of her bun and blow about with the breeze.

He didn't trust himself to speak as she reached him. He probably couldn't have even if he tried.

She stopped just short of five paces from him. They stood apart, greeting each other with their eyes;silently and formally. He was aware of how chapped his lips were, how dry his throat his was, how cold he was getting just standing there, but could do nothing about any of the ailments. There was no use in trying to read her face, because of the many times he'd tried it before, it'd never worked even once.

He wanted to say something. Say anything. Yet any words that were on the tip of his tongue were overcome by the tempestuous advances of the autumn winds. Instead, he simply held out the scarf, appraising her with his hazel eyes, daring her to take it.

The corner of her Cupid's bow lips turned upwards in the smallest of smiles. "Thanks."

Lily walked forward and stood a foot away from him, eyes snapping from the scarf to his face and back. She was so close that the breeze blew her smell towards him; a wonderful mix of pumpkin spice and vanilla. He could just make out the green in her eyes, as dark as ivy and impossible to read. She reached forward and took the scarf from his hands. Their fingers briefly touched, lighter than the beat of a hummingbird's wings.

He found that it hurt to look at her at that moment.

She stepped back, wrapping the scarf once more about her slender neck and giving him one last, indecipherable smile.

"I'll see you around, James."

He'd never thought that anyone could make his name sound so appealing. It was something about the way she rolled the long 'A' and the way the 's' had sort of a lisp at the end. He found it rather easy to smile back at her and actually mean it.

"You too, Lily."

They parted and James sauntered back to his friends, all of which were throwing him concerned looks.

Five months of silence and then a conversation. And a brush of contact. James discovered he was still smiling even after he had changed into his robes and walked back outside. Lily and him were taking steps, and as small as they were, each one seemed a mile ahead of the last and all the more crucial. They'd breached another boundary, and maybe...just maybe...they would be able to gradually slip into casual conversation every day. He could ask her how she is, they could discuss classes, joke around like they used too and bridge the gap again. They'd done it before, hadn't they?

After all, they had been friends last year before the fight.

Recalling her smile, the glint in her eyes, her pumpkin spice and vanilla scent, he mounted his broomstick and kicked off, the air rushing at him and sending a shock through his system.

Flying as high as the North Tower, he could see the entire span of the forest, the various colors of nature mixing to resemble tremendous flames surrounding the castle. It was freezing up there, but the smell of the season seemed more pungent, sending goosebumps along his arms and adrenaline down his spine.

He realized that perhaps wind wasn't as annoying as he thought it was. Nor useless for that matter, he agreed, thinking of the scarf that had so coincidentally landed at his feet. Once again Lily's face came to mind.

Despite the time that he was having to wait for her, James figured that it was worth it. These little experiences were making it all the more enthralling. Change was on the edge of the horizon, the foretaste of it burning his senses just like the biting cold of the wind.

All he needed was a 'when'. And though he had never claimed to be a seer, James Potter had a feeling that his 'when' would be coming quite soon.

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**A/N: And the tension builds....It's clear that Lily and James have some unknown history to be discussed, which shall be revealed next chappie! But next chappie will only come if you--the lovely reader--review! C'mon, you KNOW you want to. It'll change your life, I swear. ;)**


	3. Snow

Winter had never been so quiet.

It had crept up on the school like an indecisive ghost, waiting for the opportune moment to strike in a single whirlwind of a blizzard. In a single night it chased away the remains of autumn; the last of the color from the trees, the last of the will to spend time outside whenever available. That lone blizzard had wiped out everything, ended all acquaintances with warmth and friendly weather. It had lasted all night, slapping vigorously against the walls of the castle and relentlessly attacking anything that remotely resembled life. It was vicious while it had lasted, but it had ended all too quickly.

Now, it was quiet.

James couldn't help but compare that horrid blizzard to their fight, and the present silence of winter to him and Lily at present time.

Once the storm had ended, the ground was smothered with a thick layer of snow, smooth and pristine in the morning light. It seemed to sparkle like individual crystals, a blinding sheet stretched across the landscape as far as the eye could see. Frost was etched onto the windows, a temporary sort of frame each day. The lake was frozen solid, a glassy and placid mirror of dark water and beyond freezing temperatures. The air was frigid, and breathing it in brought a slight stinging sensation to the nose. Even the air was quiet, no winds disturbing it, no particular scents tinting it other than cold.

Of course, the castle was already quiet itself, what with the holidays in full swing and half the student population gone home. But even so, holiday spirit was not seeming to make the corridors any noisier. The silences stretched on for hours at a time, carving an invisible hole in James' thoughts and distracting him from enjoying his last holidays at Hogwarts. His friends were diagnosing his unsocial behavior as a teen life crisis, though they knew the truth about what was eating at him.

Or rather, whom.

James' footsteps echoed as he walked down the empty corridor, the light tapping sound bouncing off the walls with soft clarity. Even indoors it was bitterly cold, and James tucked his jacket tighter about his shoulders and rubbed his gloved hands together in order to create friction.

The interactions between Lily and him over the last month had been quiet, like the snow outside. She said not a word to him, though they often ate breakfast together and did work together in the library. Neither ever uttered a single sentence, difficult and bitter as it was. They'd often stare at each other in class, daring one another to say something. There was never any way he could see what she was thinking, or what she was feeling. She wasn't playing games--she was too mature for that--, but she wasn't exactly making her intentions clear either.

In the last few weeks, as winter swept over the castle, James found himself not caring, almost hopeless. It was hard to believe that Lily would ever come around and fix things with him. It was impossible to ask for any more than she was giving him. In the silence they had experienced, his heart seemed to have hardened slightly with the cold, its beating seemed slower. He didn't know where he stood with Lily, and he didn't know why--despite the fact that she was repeatedly tearing into his emotions with each subtle glance--he could feel a small brush of happiness at the mere mention of her name.

He felt damned right now, doomed to loom about this never ending winter with her on his mind. His soul was shriveled with sad solitude and estranged silence.

And loneliness.

But he tried not to think about that part.

"James." A voice sliced through his train of thought; a flash of brilliant light in the blackness.

He whipped around, his stagnant heart stuttering to life like the flight of a baby bird. He couldn't bring himself to feel surprised at her appearance. She'd always had a knack for showing up at the perfect moment.

"Lily." It wasn't a friendly greeting, nor was it coarse. He felt slightly reproachful, defensive, and unsure what loop she was going to throw him through next.

"Do you want to take a walk?" She asked slowly, fiddling with the frayed edge of her scarf. "I mean, I was headed outside anyways, but I could always use a companion."

He said nothing, merely nodding and following her out the castle doors into the wintry abyss outside.

The snow was even more stunning than it had appeared from indoors. Icicles cascaded from the ledges of windows about the castle, forming rainbows as the feeble sunlight danced about them. The snow looked indescribably soft and comforting, like one could simply curl up and go to sleep in it. The air was even colder now, biting and sinking its teeth into any exposed inch of James' skin; he ignored the inconvenience and concentrated on the girl next to him.

The only sound heard in that moment was the crunching step their shoes made on the surface of the undisturbed snow. Their silence was purposefully prolonged, tasting sweet, sour, and poignant on his wordless tongue. He could tell with a simple glance at her that she was fretting the way she did in a nerve-wracking situation. She bit her lip and repeatedly ran a hand through her hair, something that he found amusing, odd, and even a little bit endearing. Something was on her mind more than ever before; it was written clearly in the almost permanent frown lines on her brow and the dark circles under her eyes, which were now the color of frozen ivy. Her auburn air contrasted hugely with the white surroundings, the only sign of color and vibrancy that seemed to be present.

They reached the foot of the lake and stopped walking, the glassy ice on the top reflecting both of them. Lily paced for a while and then turned, looking at her feet and still fidgeting. James watched her, expression guarded and cautious.

"I take it back." She suddenly blurted, looking up at him.

James face closed within itself, hiding the confusion, the hope that ripped through his nerves like a jolt of lighting. He just looked at her.

Lily shook her head angrily, as if at herself, and ceased talking, looking off into the far away hills, laid with barren trees.

"You know," She started, pausing again to run a hand through her hair, "Last year, when we started getting along, acting civil towards each other...I--I was so confused, James." she was getting lost in her explanation; her cheeks were heating up and her eyes were warming towards him. "For five years I'd never spared so much as kind thought towards you and then you...you're suddenly there, a part of my life. I started thinking you're not such a prat as I thought, and I started enjoying having you around." She laughed then, shaking her head again. "You were under my skin, and I could not for the life of me get you out. You refused to budge."

He wasn't sure what she was doing, reiterating last year's events that he had so carefully avoided reliving, but didn't speak against it. She was almost beautiful right then, they way she explained this to him with multiple gestures, the faces she was making that varied from disgust to affection. Still, he said nothing;quiet and hesitant.

"We spent all that time together," She actually smiled then, glancing fleetingly at him, "And it was confusing, but I could accept your friendship. Strange as it was, I could accept it, because you weren't making me feel uncomfortable, something you had recently become the master of. Being friends was safe. We weren't crossing any lines, then."

Then.

He knew what was coming next without even having to guess. Snow began to fall around them, feather light and piercingly cold. Neither seemed to notice it.

"But that night..." Lily trailed off, wincing as the memory crashed over them both. "You...we...I honestly didn't see it coming. One minute we were sitting there in the common room, and the next, we were fighting like a pair of cats. I made one comment, you made another, and we were off. Do you even remember what I said?"

She knew the reply, that was obvious. He let her answer her own question.

Lily turned away, hugging herself and biting her lip once more. "I commented on a pair of fifth years walking by. They were a couple, holding hands and laughing and I wondered aloud when I was going to get something like that." She looked sad now, lost in another time. "When I was going to finally find a guy who sees my crazy flaws but understood them. You laughed at me."

The words hung in the frigid air, and no body wanted to approach them. They both knew what had transpired after that; he tried to take back his actions, she got defensive, and they were off, out of control, and yelling at the top of their lungs. Even at the time it had seemed inevitable; they couldn't have possibly made it through the year without an infamous Evans-Potter brawl.

"I didn't understand it." She relented. "I didn't understand what would make you say that, why we only escalated from there, why we couldn't seem to bloody stop even though we'd already exchanged every insult in the book. I still don't understand it."

The snow was still falling, landing and melting in their hair, dampening their clothes.

"The worst part is, after that fight, I couldn't stop thinking about what you had said. We'd had fights before, James, but that was the worst, and don't you dare deny it. I couldn't stop thinking that I'd done something to make you blow up like that, to make you hate me so suddenly. I know you had apologized in that letter you sent, but I knew you were still resentful."

He blinked, a flash of disbelief in his eyes. How could she think that? How could she not know; know everything about how he felt and how badly he'd had to hide it last year, claiming that his feelings were only platonic then. How could she possibly say he hated her?

"So, whatever I did, I take it back." She concluded, pivoting towards him and staring at him with troubled eyes.

The one-way conversation ended as quickly as it came, silence rushing up to fill the gaps like cracks in the cement. James stood there, snow falling on his eyelashes, and could only think of one thing to say:

"Why?"

A pause.

"Why what?" Lily asked, dodging the question and looking uneasy.

"Why would you want to take those words back?" He asked sharply. "You meant them, so why take them back? You haven't talked to me, or hardly looked at me this whole year, so why try and apologize now?"

She back tracked hastily. "I--I don't know what you're talking about, James."

Anger nipped at his emotions and he almost glowered at her. "Look, you can't expect to apologize to me and not give me a reason for apologizing. I don't want your pity and I don't want your saint behavior. You were wrong, Lily Evans, and you better have a damn good reason for why you want to reconcile."

The wind was blowing snow into their faces, but neither moved. She looked like she wanted to cry, but could not.

James features softened into a once more passive set, "We know why I apologized, Lily. But why did you?"

She didn't answer, only stared at him, terrified and firm all at once.

"When you can tell me why, you come and find me." He said softly before turning and walking away, leaving her standing in the snow, the imprint of her befuddled, hurt, angered face stamped in the back of his mind.

He didn't go back inside, however. There was too much time to be spent out here, too much to think about, to mull over. Despite the cold, he could feel himself getting warmer. For the first time in weeks, he was feeling something stirring inside him. The silence continued to stretch on, but winter seemed to be a little less quelling. The snow a little less freezing, the air a little less biting, and the sun a little more brighter.

After all, though it had been a quiet winter, that didn't stop James from hearing the screaming her words were doing in his head.

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**A/N: So, I'm aware it's been a while (You can blame One Tree Hill for that). And I'm also aware that this is slightly more angsty and less plotsy. Took me a while cause it's longer. Sorry for any typos and grammatical errors. I'd be much obliged if you'd review. **


	4. Rain

**A/N: I did a lot of personal research for this chapter (research which involved me procrastinating homework and standing in the rain for almost an hour while my parents wondered at my sanity) so I'd appreciate it if you'd review, please. Also, if you want some music to listen to while reading this, I suggest 'When I look at you' by Miley Cyrus and 'Fearless' by Taylor Swift. R&R!**

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That night, it rained.

What had started out as a slow trickling drizzle had escalated into a full blown tempest in a matter of an hour. Torrents of rain ran haphazardly about, spiraling to the ground in over lapping and constant cadences that one could easily mistake for the roar of a thousand footfalls. Lightning flashed in jagged streaks and thunder rumbled perilously throughout the air.

If it weren't for the darkened skies appareled with gigantic clouds of periwinkle and grey, the sun would have revealed the day to be coming to a close, evening on the rise. There was not a patch of light, nor a spot of blue sky, visible that night. It didn't matter, however. No amount of darkness could have stopped him from enjoying the brilliant and effervescent rain.

The grass in between his toes was a beautifully fresh green, the soil beneath his feet a moist plethora of new life. The last efforts of winter had long since been washed away by the April showers. Everything was flushed with renewal and the promise of a long stay.

Spring had inevitably arrived.

It was everywhere; in the way the flowers and trees began to bloom and in the gradually lengthening hours the sun stayed up. Winter had hardened over old wounds like a scab, and now spring was here to heal and cleanse them. There was color and spirit in everything.

James stood on that grass; his eyes closed as he stood without hesitancy and soaked up the pouring rain. He listened quietly to the pinkering plop of each raindrop as it fell into the lake, felt the cool rain on his warm skin, trailing down in small rivers over his muscled shoulders and upturned face. His lips were parted, letting the occasional drop fall onto his willing tongue, tasting of sweet fresh air, earth, and pure, innocent bliss.

His friends often called him mad for going out in the rain like this, his mother often told him he was going to catch his death, but he never listened. There was something eternal and forever energizing about rain, something that made all grudges be forgotten, all scars erased, all hurt vanished, and all feelings of vulnerability intensified times ten.

His mind was open, accepting anything that might happen at any given moment. He honestly couldn't care if the lightning struck him down right there. It was totally and completely worth it. A sense of calm had slipped over him, bringing with it an unusual sense of purpose and energy.

The last three months had been a blur of numb, warmth, and stares. Lily had clearly been struck by his words to her. He could often feel her gaze on the back of his head, hear his name whispered as she argued with her friends in the Library. He had no way of knowing if it was a good thing or bad thing, but he knew she was soon to be making up her mind.

They'd started talking to each other again. Short, harmless, even playful conversations that meant everything without even trying. It was effortless, being able to talk to her again, he'd found. She had a cohesive personality that made it easy to talk and a smile that encouraged his jokes and teasing remarks. They hadn't discussed anything serious yet, and didn't dare bring up the subject of what had happened in winter, but James knew it would have to come out eventually. They couldn't avoid it forever.

Another thunder clap forced James to open his eyes, taking in another brilliant flash of lightning across the darkening sky. For a second, the entire world was filled with light, carrying out to all the nooks and crannies seeking it. The lightning also lit upon the steps of the castle, where a figure was standing hesitantly, a few feet away from the sheet of rain.

Lily.

Their eyes met, and for once he did not look away as he had been doing as of late. She stood there, under the protection of the castle, her feet bare and hair hanging loose along her shoulders in its usual long and flowing scarlet tresses. She was looking at him uncertainly, not sure if she was allowed to intrude on his peace or not. She looked like she'd wanted to stand in the rain too, as crazy as that seemed.

"May I join you?" She called out to him, voice barely audible above the roar of the storm.

Even from this distance he could not help but think her beautiful. He was surprised, though, to see her out here, completely ready to plunge headfirst into the rain.

He gave a slight smile. "Of course!"

And then she ran for him, screaming as the rain hit her in full force, drenching her clothes immediately. He laughed as she sprinted, both of them able to admit that it was the most exhilarating of all feelings to be standing out there in the rain. Their cares were tossed aside, overcome by the mere liberation of mind and body that the rain brought. There was no awkwardness, no secret staring, it was just the two of them, running about in the pouring rain; all caution and insecurity stripped away by the pelting drops.

It seemed to last for hours, their laughter and smiles. They ran around like children, bare feet slapping on the wet grass and water dampening every inch of their bodies as they splashed about in the puddles and spun about in an effort to taste the droplets falling from the sky. The ricketing thunder and lightning, the cascading water that surrounded them, the cool splashes that smelt of earth and pine trees, it made James feel incredibly alive at that moment, every square centimeter of his skin was aware of what was going on. Joy spread through his system as him and Lily jumped around, ignoring the fact that they both looked like utter idiots. He stopped counting the times that they fell down in the puddles, or tackled one another in an effort to get the other more wet.

It might have lasted for hours, their running, laughing, and splashing, but now it was almost completely dark outside and it was hard to see Lily, even with her smile bright enough to light a room. He'd never seen her so radiant; her flushed cheeks and soaked appearance glowing like a fire refusing to die out.

James stopped, leaning over to catch his breath, his lungs repeatedly filling with the warm, moist air. Lily, still giggling to herself, leaned against the beech tree, happily soaked from head to toe. He glanced at her, blinking the rain out of her eyes as if she had been crying, sending rivulets down her cheek and collarbone. Even though she was still conservatively dressed, James found sopping-wet-Lily to be more than slightly arousing. She smiled at him, and ran a hand through her hair, wiping her water saturated bangs out of her face.

He walked over slowly and leaned up against the tree next to her, more than aware of her shoulder touching his, but not aware enough to change that. She looked slightly confused, her brow crinkled as she looked at her feet and then at him.

They stood like that for a while, watching the rain and listening to the distant thunder. It was a warm, balmy night and the thrum of each drop on the ground was like the comforting whistle of a whippoorwill.

"I know why I apologized." She whispered, just audible over the storm, with a small smile.

He didn't glance at her, just nodded. It was crucial to let her say her part and see what would come of it. Meanwhile, it continued to pour, and the last remains of sunshine were extinguished from the sky. The dim lanterns from the castle were barely visible through the wall of rain.

"It's the same reason I would come out here and spend an hour and a half dancing in the rain with you." She answered, staring up at him with a rather calm yet anticipatory expression, as if she'd been dying to get these words off her tongue. "The same reason I would go walking in the snow with you. The same reason I would sit in the Quidditch stands just to watch you practice. And the same reason I'd plan to walk by you at the lake in September to see if you'd notice me at all."

James turned to her, quirking a rather arrogant eyebrow and started to smile back, his heart pounding furiously. Lily's eyes were back to how they used to be before the fight, sparkling like emeralds. She was blushing, but to her advantage, it only made her look more appealing.

"Like I said, James," She continued softly, "You're under my skin. Except now, I don't really feel an inclination to try and remove you."

The stood there, inches apart, the storm continuing to rage around them. Dripping wet, smiling, bathed in the fervor the rain brought on, James Potter and Lily Evans had finally reached the last cautious boundary of their relationship.

They met each other half way, lips brushing as they brought down that last barrier with astounding force.

Her lips tasted of brownies and rain, and her hands--now running through _his_ hair--were as soft and gentle as butterflies. Water slipped down their faces and joined the kiss, bringing it to a whole new level of sensation that made the stomach swoop and the heart clench.

It continued to rain and they continued to kiss, his arms wrapping around her slim waist and pulling her flush against him, the scent of her skin overwhelming his already livened senses. They must have stood like that for ages, wet skin on wet skin, intimacy and simplicity within itself. She cupped his cheeks, stroking a thumb along his jawline and kissing him with passion that he figured she must have been disguising for quite a while.

"Now." She whispered into his lips, pressing kiss after urgent kiss unto them.

He pulled away for a second, brow wrinkling in confusion. "What are you talking about, Lils?"

She smiled slightly at his new found nickname, touching her forehead to his. "You once asked me when you would get to love me without me doing you bodily harm every time you so much as spoke to me..." she laughed. "Well, I think now would be a fine time for that 'when'."

James grinned, rain fogging behind his glasses and dripping off the bridge of his nose. "You're telling me. And here I was, thinking that this whole kissing business was just strictly platonic."

Lily laughed out loud, the sound accompanying the thunder like a soothing harmony. "C'mere, you."

Their lips met again, sealing the unspoken promise of affection. In continued to rain cats and dogs, ensuring the two of them sufficient colds in the morning. The leaden skies continued to weep, yet the world seemed alight with the feeling that Lily and James kept between the two of them. The air smelled sweet and the rain was cool and welcoming.

A year ago, neither would have believed that they would end up like this, standing in the pouring rain, denying the fact that any fight had transpired. It had taken four seasons, a thoughtful summer, an irritating autumn, a quiet winter, and a jubilant spring, to bring them together.

But the wait for Lily to catch up to him hadn't mattered, for James hadn't needed a why, how, or where.

All he'd needed was a when.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this closing. I originally had a toned down sex scene involved, but the prude in me threw a fit and wouldn't cooperate with my muse, so sorry, no sexy naked James today. :) Anyways, thanks for reading, and yes, this is the end of the story! Please REVIEW and, if you can, vote on my profile page poll and you shall be my favorite person!**


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